Why Can't I Pretend?
by C van Zyl
Summary: FIRST FANFIC EVER! Based on CP Coulter's amazing 'Dalton'. Jogan angst! Julian is trying to forget about what happened in that fiery building on Hell's Night but Logan won't let him. What happens when Julian leaves? Will he return like every other time? Will he finally be able to forget and move on? Or will Logan not let him? Rated T for swearing.


**Authors Note:**Hi, Cloey van Zyl here:) So, I'm a HUGE fan of glee and have been reading Glee fanfiction for a long while now and recently I've been going crazy over anything related to CP Coulter's amazing 'Dalton' and am in love with Jogan! So I decided to take the plunge and write something of my own (even if it is not as good as I'd like it to be…). This is my first ever fanfiction and I've only written a few other stories so please, if you do review- which would be lovely!- be kind although I welcome constructive criticismJ Okay, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Glee or 'Dalton' by CP Coulter.

I tried to forget. I tried to pretend. To act like it hadn't happened, I was an actor right? Acting should have been easy for me. Acting _was_ easy me but no one else seemed to want to act along with me. They all wanted to "Talk about it" and encouraged me to "Get it out of my system". All those fucking shrinks that they sent me to. God, they were pathetic. All kind and patient and encouraging. Couldn't they just leave me alone? Couldn't they just let me pretend?

The Dalton boys, friends and non-friends alike, were the same. Each one of them behaving the same around me. Sympathetic looks and whispered words of the same old "How are feeling?". I wasn't a fucking baby. The only one who didn't treat me like a baby was… him. But then again, he didn't treat me like anything. In fact he didn't come to visit me during my stay in the hospital. At least not since I woke up. Derek didn't mention him on his daily visits but I could tell he wanted to. He wanted to break the silent tension and just talk about the stupid blonde elephant in the room. I didn't want him to and I made that pretty obvious by completely shutting off when he looked like he was about to say something about him.

The two police officers came to ask me questions about Adam while I was still in the hospital. They were nice enough about understanding that I didn't want to talk about it and I knew that they were only doing their jobs and that this would help put Adam away for good, but it took all of strength not to scream and cry and yell at them to get the fuck out and just leave me alone. Couldn't they see I wasn't ready to think about that night? Hell freaking night. The night that I wished I could have died instead of Mr Harvey. The poor man. The poor _stupid_ man. What the hell had he been doing in the fire anyway? What the hell were _any_ of them doing in the fire? Adam and his shit was my problem. Not theirs. And _certainly_ not Logan's. Even thinking his name brought up memories of his face when I was forced to tell them. The disbelief of my confession, his pleading for me to stop talking. Tears sprang to my eyes and the police officers guessed that I had had enough for one day. They left soon afterwards. Thank the Lord.

Dalton was the same as before the fire. Well, most of it was. Obviously the art building was missing and there was a large black and grey ruin in it's place. But other than that it was so easy to pretend that it had all never happened. At least until I saw other boys. The looks of sympathy and concern followed me everywhere. There many looks of distrust and all of gossip. If anyone hadn't(although I don't know how they could not have) heard of the happenings in the fiery building on Hell's Night then they certainly did now. I didn't see Logan for the first day I was back. I didn't attend classes and he wasn't at dinner. The next day it was impossible that I might get lucky and miss him again. I saw his figure retreating into another building as I stepped out of Stuart House on the way to my first lesson of the day: English, with a steaming flask of coffee to keep me upright, I hadn't slept much since I woke up in the hospital and I hadn't slept at all the previous night thanks to the fact that I knew I would have to at least be in the same room as Logan today. Derek didn't _seem_ to notice Logan's blonde head striding into the building and I was glad since my breath hitched and I mentally slapped myself. I needed to get a grip, I had to pretend that nothing had happened. Because if I couldn't do that then I was never going to get through even one day back at Dalton. I sat at the front of the class in every one of my classes, far, _far_ away from Logan and in front of him so that I wouldn't have to look at him, or anyone else for that matter, and could just pretend that I was the only one in the class. As soon as lessons were over, I rushed back to Stuart and locked myself into my room, turned on some music and tried to distract myself.

It worked. For a few hours. That first day repeated itself again and again. For two weeks I was able to avoid any kind of contact with Logan and the bare minimal with anyone else. I had tried to act like it hadn't happened, tried to do my homework in the common room like I used to before Hell's Night, tried to sit next to Derek at dinner and pretend that it didn't affect me that Logan was sitting two tables down, tried to talk to my old friends with the same unaffected smirk. But I couldn't. Everything _was_ different, even if I didn't want to admit it. So I gave up trying and retreated into myself. I didn't leave my room for anything except classes, not even meals, stopped talking to anyone that wasn't Derek(and even he could barely get a word out of me) and stopped going to the stupid appointments with the shrink that my mother and the school had set up.

"Julian, you can't go on like this.", Derek said to me one afternoon as I lay on my bed with my earphones on and some heavy metal shit blocking out everything, even my thoughts. His scowl deepened when I ignored him.

"Julian! For God's sake!", he ripped out the earphones, forcing my attention to him.

I shot a glare at him, irritated that I was going to have to endure yet another lecture.

"Talk to him.", he said yanking the earphones and my iPod out of my reach as I tried to grab them.

Another glare.

"Talk to me then! Talk to your therapist, your parents, talk to fucking Sonic if you want! Just stop keeping everything bottled up and shutting yourself in your room like a sulking child!".

"No Derek. Just let me be, I need space. I need time.", my voice was oddly calm and I felt the glare leave my face.

"You've had time! You've had space, but all you're doing is stewing in your own messed up thoughts. It's not healthy.", he paced around the room, trying to get me to see his reasoning. I wasn't having any of it. Did I mention I was stubborn?

I didn't give him a response, what was response did I have? He scowled at me until he realised that I wasn't going to be giving one any time soon. Seeing that the situation wasn't going to get any less hopeless for him, he scowled some more and muttered, "Talk to him, Jules.", and strode out the room, chucking my iPod back to me where I placed the earphones back into my ears and zoned into my quiet world of nothingness, where Adam had never existed and I hadn't been forced to admit my feelings to the boy I had loved through thick and thin while held at knife-point in a building consumed with flames.

My quiet space of numb- pretending was invaded two days later by the last person I expected to see, let alone talk to. He barged in, unannounced and clearly fuming with barely supressed frustration.

Because of the earphones once again poring the sweet(and really, really crap) distracting, blaring heavy metal music into my ears, I didn't hear him enter and was only startled into opening my eyes when the earphones were pulled roughly from my ears. I expected to see Derek once again there to pester me and fixed my face into a glare, but it was shocked off my face when I found a tall blonde and annoyed Logan standing over me.

I couldn't speak, so he initiated the conversation. "Julian,", the fact that he called me Julian, not Jules or even Princess affected me much more than I thought it would, "What the fuck are you doing?".

I shouldn't have been surprised. Still same old Logan, blunt, crude and direct and very much unmedicated. Even if he did call me Julian.

I cleared my voice and steadied myself before I spoke as normally as I could, hoping that he wouldn't hear the tremor in my voice, "What do you want Logan?".

"Answer the question.", he shot back immediately.

I resisted the childish urge to quip 'You answer mine first.' And instead stuck with, "What am I doing? Lying on my bed, listening to music," I answered before adding with an extra shot of sarcasm to hide my nerves, "Sorry if it offends you, oh great Prefect.".

His green eyes exuded coldness as he stared at me, unamused by my attempt to beat around the bush. "Answer the fucking question.".

I sighed, still not sure what he wanted from me. "What do you want me to say? I'm not doing anything. I'm sitting in my room, quietly not disturbing anyone.".

"Why?", he asked bluntly.

"Why?", I repeated.

"Why are you avoiding everyone? Why don't I ever see you?", his eyes still hadn't left mine and I was finding it exceedingly difficult to keep my eyes from dropping away from his. Why was he asking me this? What kind of question was that anyway? I dropped my eyes, I could take his anymore.

"I don't exactly feel like socialising right now.".

"Don't you want to talk about what happened?". This question definitely caught me by surprise. Enough so to make me meet his eyes for a second before dropping my gaze again.

"About Adam? About the fact that Mr Harvey is dead? No thanks. I'm trying to forget about the fact that it's all my fau-"

I started to gain momentum before I was cut off by him, "About the fact that you're in love with me.".

I froze. How could he just say it so bluntly, just lay it out so openly? Not talking about it for the past few weeks had given me the ability to believe that it almost hadn't been real, that I hadn't really said it but here he was slicing open my ever-so-slightly healed wound. The pain and shock was so jarring, I could almost literally feel myself bleeding.

"It's true isn't it?", he carried on speaking when he realised that I wasn't going to, or couldn't. I just continued staring at the speck of dirt on the carpet to the right of Logan's shoes.

"You are in love with me?". He must have taken my silence as an affirmative as he continued, "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let it get so far that you had to be forced into a confession by a psychopath with a fucking knife to your throat? Why didn't you tell me you weren't straight?! Why didn't you FUCKING TELL ME!?", he had gotten more and more worked up until he was screaming at me and had grabbed me by the shoulders, dragged me to my feet and physically shook me to punctuate his last few words. He stopped screaming and I could feel his breath on my face as he panted from his outburst. I was still staring at the same spot on the carpet while he held my shoulders and eventually he just thrust me backwards away from him and I landed heavily on my bed. He started to pace around my room, his breathing still ragged and heavy with uncontrolled and unmedicated rage. Needing a release, he picked up my iPod from my desk where he had chucked it earlier on and flung it with an animal-like growl at the wall where it smashed and fell quickly to the floor. Not bothering to notice, I had lost many things to Logan's infamous fury in the past and a stupid iPod was the least of my worries, I still kept my eyes down and my mouth shut. There was silence in my room for at least ten minutes until Logan finally broke it, "Why are you still here?". His voice wasn't as accusing as before, it almost sounded genuinely curious.

I looked up out of curiosity to find out what he could possibly mean by his question.

He elaborated, "Why are you still at Dalton?", he was still pacing, albeit less angrily, "Why haven't you left? I would have thought you would just leave. Go back and hide in Hollywood like you always seem to do. I mean, you're shutting yourself up in this fucking room and not talking to anyone. You might as well be gone anyway.".

I stared up at him in disbelief. _You might as well be gone anyway_. His words rang in my head, echoing around my skull with his biting tone to suit the scathing words.  
"I… I can't believe it. I can't fucking believe it. You _bastard_.", I slowly got up off my bed as I felt the anger and emotion bubble to the surface. As I started to speak, Logan stopped his pacing and stood near the door to watch me. "I poured my _soul_ out to you that night, I was forced to bare everything to you while everyone that I care about here; fuck, in the whole world; was in danger by some fucker who was ready to kill us all. I was forced to reveal something that I had kept inside myself for _three years_, I had endure you and all of the shit that goes with you, helping you get the guys that you pined over, beat myself up over and over again about whether I should tell you or not, _knowing_ that you would never love me back and after all the fucking SHIT that I dealt with, you come here, accusing me, berating me and ask me why I'm even here, when all you want is for me to _FUCK OFF AND GET OUT OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE!_", I was screaming at him, gesticulating wildly and shaking with uncontrollable fury.

He tried to get a word in, "Jules-", but I cut him off, "Don't you fucking _dare_ call me that!".

"I'M SORRY IF I CAN'T GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT!", he practically bellowed over my voice, drowning me out and forcing me into submission, "I'm sorry if I didn't notice or that you got hurt or that I was an asshole or that you had to leave all the time. I'm sorry for falling in love with other boys but _you were straight!_ I don't look at my straight friends like that! I don't fall in love with my straight best friend! _I can't fall in love with them! I CAN'T FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU!_".

Tears that had been welling in my eyes since he had started shouting about not being able to give me what I want, were now escaping down my cheeks. He couldn't fall in love me. He couldn't. Not with me. He had said it. He had screamed it in fact. I had seen the anger and frustration in his eyes. The message rang clear for me: he was not and would never be able to (whether he wanted to or not and clearly he did not) love me in that way.

I hated myself (possibly more than I ever had before, and that was saying something) more than ever before for crying in front of him then. Why did I have to be so fucking weak?

I couldn't speak because my throat was chocked up and I didn't want to embarrass myself any further.

So I left, just like he said I should. I grabbed my phone and wallet from my bedside table and a jacket from the chair at my desk and walked out the door.

I didn't look back to see Logan's expression when I did, and I didn't say goodbye to anyone. I just walked down the stairs and out the front door. I phoned a local cab service for a cab on my way to the parking lot and one drove up through the gates half an hour later. I got into it and told the driver to take me to the airport. Nevermind that it was getting close to nine at night and that the possibility of me getting a ticket to L.A that night was very slim. I didn't care anymore. I just needed to get out of there. I got to the airport and managed to book a ticket but had to stay at the nearest hotel since the flight was the next morning.

The first thing I did the next morning was buy some sunglasses to hide my face, so fangirls didn't spot Julian Larson and so that everybody else didn't spot my red, puffy eyes from the obvious lack of sleep and overload of crying.

I was never going back. Never. I got a couple of missed calls from Derek but couldn't handle speaking to anyone so I ignored them all. I could deal with him later, I felt awful for dragging him into all of this. I didn't get any phone calls from Logan. Not ever. For the first few weeks I held onto the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he might change his mind, come to his senses, whatever, and try to get in touch. But not even Derek mentioned him. Not even once over the next few times we spoke on the phone. I cried constantly. A broken heart sucked. And this time it sucked even more because I knew that it was truly over. I wasn't going back. I wasn't going to see him again. I tried to convince myself that it was the right thing to do, to try and forget about him. In the long run, I knew I could never have stayed at Dalton. Logan had actually been correct, my last two weeks there had been so useless, I might as well not have been there at all. This way I had closure, I had some measure of peace. Ha. I wish.

Five Years Later:

I was _dying_ of thirst and the idiot barista was taking for fucking ever. My temper was running high and I was running late. Why was I in this tiny, stupid-ass coffee-shop anyway? Just because it was the closest to my new apartment and was convenient clearly didn't make up for the fact that this barista was terrible! I adjusted my sunglasses and checked the time on my watch, I knew that the barista was wondering if I looked familiar and I did _not_ want to handle another gay fanboy (ever since my accidental 'coming out' a few months previously when I had been spotted leaving some sleazy gay bar with a hot blonde- and _no _I didn't choose him because he looked like some other person that I hadn't thought of in a very long while… okay a week. That particular night, it happened to be a certain someone's birthday, can you guess who?, I had been too drunk to think about the consequences of my actions and had acted much more carelessly than I normally would have otherwise. When the press found out, I didn't bother hiding it. I finally was forced out: yes, world, Julian Larson is bisexual.).

"Hey, Paul, sorry I'm late.".

Wait… That sounded suspiciously like…

It couldn't be. My blood froze and I swear time stopped for one horrifying moment. John Logan Wright the fucking III was rushing behind the counter and tying one of those uniform-apron things around his hips.

"It's about time, Wright. You just got this job, being late isn't helping you keep it. Here." the barista handed him _my_ half-made coffee and told him the order before whipping his apron thing off, hanging it on a hook and rushing away. I looked frantically around me and wondered if I could make a run for it without Logan realising that I was standing not three metres away. I decided it was my best bet and quickly turned and made my way towards the door when Logan's voice rang out, "Julian!". It wasn't the sound of him realising it was me, his ex- best friend, it was him calling out the name the previous barista had written on the coffee cup. I knew that I had a chance to get away, he didn't know that it was my coffee, his Julian(I mentally slapped myself. There was no such thing! I was not _his_ Julian), but I couldn't. His voice, after being deprived of it for five long and hard years, calling out my name felt so amazing. Even if he didn't know that it was me, I could still imagine it was.

"Hey, dude, that's your coffee right?", another voice pulled me out of my reverie. It was the guy who had been standing behind me in the line. I couldn't escape now. Well, I could have, but I didn't.

Instead I turned around and nodded to the guy who had just spoken, strode back to the counter and took the coffee from Logan's hands, all the while keeping my eyes averted from his behind my sunglasses and turned to leave once more. This time though, Logan had recognised me.

"Julian.", this time he said my name with the understanding that this was his ex-best friend, Julian Larson, the guy who had confessed his love for him before he told said ex-best friend that he couldn't love him. The same ex-best friend who had cried every night for eight months and seventeen days after he had left Dalton. The one who had slowly lost contact with their other best friend Derek, although they still exchanged the odd birthday email once a year, the one who had slept with and tried every which way to fall in love with someone- anyone!- else just to get the idiot squid out of his head. It hadn't worked. And now said ex-best friend was faced with the idiot squid and had no way out of talking to him. Somehow my meeting with the director of my next movie wasn't so important anymore.

I turned around and force myself to meet those shockingly familiar green eyes. I noticed a million things about him all at once: he looked the same, ridiculously tall and handsome but slightly older, more experienced looking, his hair was a bit longer than the last time I had seen him and he had some stubble that he managed to somehow make look sexy in a way that I never could have. But the one thing that hadn't changed was his eyes. They were clear and crisp looking, clearly he hadn't taken any medication, and were filled with a strange emotion that I hadn't often seen in his eyes when they were directed towards me: Surprise. But not angry surprised or weird surprised. Happy surprised. Almost as if he was happily surprised to see me. Haha. As if.

"Logan.", I don't know when I found my voice but suddenly I had rolled the name off my tongue and was slightly shocked at how good it felt to say his name.

"What…? I- I mean… you! It's, um- What are you doing here?", he looked positively flustered and I couldn't quite believe my eyes, why on earth was he flustered? I actually had to catch myself before I let the smile that was threatening to bloom, blossom on my lips.

Instead I manage a fairly curt, "I was getting coffee.".

"Right. Of course.", he looked down, actually embarrassed. This man looked like Logan but there is no way that the Logan I knew would ever act this bashful around me.

I saved the awkward silence that started to encroach.

"Since when do you work here?".

He met my eyes again, "About a month. I haven't seen you here before.".

It was strange having such a normal, slightly awkward conversation with Logan. I had only ever known Logan to be difficult and unreasonable and yet there I was speaking to him like he was a stranger!

"Yeah, I just got a new apartment a couple minutes away.".

"Um, can I get some coffee?", the man who was behind me in the line asked impatiently. Both Logan and I turned to look at him and we realised that there was quite a line forming that we were holding up.

"Sorry, sure, what can I get you?", Logan slipped back into polite work-mode and took the man's order. I was about to leave when Logan started talking again while moving around behind the counter preparing the coffee order, "So, we should catch up.".

Um, what?

I stared at Logan. I was suddenly faced with two options, one: I make an excuse, leave the coffee shop as quickly as humanly possible and never go back there again, maybe get a new apartment somewhere else so that I would never have to see Logan again and never have to face those feelings that were repressed for five long years and are threatening to rear their head again. Two: Casually agree with his suggestion and make plans, meet up, reacquaint myself with the man that I had been in love with for eight years and give him the perfect opportunity to smash my heart to bits, leaving me heartbroken once again.

I wanted _so badly_ to go with the first option. To leave him behind, to not ruin my five years' hard work. But it was Logan, Lo, the squid of ignorance, the man I was still, sadly, absolutely in love with and I never could say no to him.

I refused to be the one who arrived first so I set about to be fifteen minutes late so that there was no way I could be the one to look stupid if he decided to blow me off. Again. The coffee shop, the same one he worked at, was extremely empty. Only one other person sat working on their laptop by the window. Logan was sitting at a small table in the corner. He had two cups of coffee on the table so I assumed the one was for me therefore I walked straight to the table, removed my sunglasses and sat down. Logan's expression as he saw me arrive was unnerving, he was actually smiling at me. And not some superior smirk, but an actual smile.

"Hey.", he said as he slid one of the cups to me. I took it and greeted him back as I took a sip.

"You know my coffee order.", I said as I found the coffee to be exactly right.

"I made yours yesterday remember? Besides, you were my best friend for three years.".

"I didn't realise you noticed back then.". There. I said it. His smile slipped and I saw the Logan I knew. The annoyed green eyes with a flicker of the instability always lurking and something else that eluded to a more broken side of Logan that I had only ever seen three times in my life, after Blaine, Joshua and Kurt.

"Julian…", his voice was also more familiar, none of the happy cheerful crap. It had a warning in it mixed with a dash of…regret? That can't be right.

"What?", I asked, was I trying to stir the pot a little? Oh yeah.

"Don't.", his voice and eyes became more angry. There was a dare-devil part of me that wanted to provoke him, I wanted to see the fire in him, the old Logan that I fell in love with.

I cocked an eyebrow at him in defiance.

"Don't ruin this, Julian. Just don't.", he swallowed audibly, struggling to supress his emotions.

"Ruin what Logan?", I must admit, I was having a lot of fun.

"I'm trying hard Julian. Really hard right now. Not to get emotional. Not to ruin this second chance I've been given. But you're making if _bloody_ difficult.", he spoke through clenched teeth now and his hands were fists on the table. He was clearly trying to hold in the emotions that were about to spill but I had to see him, I had to see my Logan.

"What if the emotional Logan is who I fell in love with?". Shit, I had really dug myself into a hole now. I had set myself up so completely for another heart break, I swear I could feel my heart starting to crack in anticipation. Soon it would crack completely and I would start bleeding again. The last time it took me five years to finally pull myself together and even then I was never fully okay, like my heart would always carry those scars that had never truly healed. "What if he's the one I _want_ to see?".

Logan looked shocked at my words, that I was being so blunt.

"Are you still in love with me, Julian?", he asked bluntly back, I loved how blunt he always was.

"Yes.", I knew that was it, the moment of truth. It all rested on his reaction.

He pushed the coffees aside, grabbed my face with his hands and pulled me to him. The last thing I saw before he brought my lips to his was the fire, the emotion in his eyes, the- dare I say it? Dare I jinx it?- love.

His lips were just like the rest of his, rough and forceful but filled with passion. I lost myself in the kiss, letting the feeling of _finally_ being in this situation after eight years of unrequited love wash over me in strong waves.

He pulled away first, and panting slightly sat back in his chair, not letting my right hand leave his though.

I waited for him to do some explaining.

"It wasn't long after you had gone. I was with Kurt. We were talking. I had promised long before that I wasn't going to chase after him but I still had some lingering feelings. He said something strange to me that got me thinking.", he paused and took a sip of his coffee, "He said that whoever ended up loving me would have to be just as crazy as I was. I started thinking about you. About how you are the most annoying, frustrating, diva-princess, spoilt brat of them all. How we could barely have a conversation without being at each other's throats, how I hate how you always look so smug, like you know something I don't. How I always had the _need _to wipe that stupid smirk off your face. And then I realised it. I didn't just want to wipe the smirk off your face. I wanted to _kiss_ the smirk off. I wanted to kiss you, because you're the only one who can match me in a fight. And you're the only one who cared enough to come back all those times.".

"But I didn't come back the last time.", I pointed out, trying not to let Logan see how much this was affecting me. The last thing I was going to do was fucking cry in front of him.

"Yes you did. You didn't come back to Dalton, but you coming back to me right now. I'm not taking no for an answer. There's no fucking way you're leaving again.".

I smirked. I did it intentionally this time.

"Jules, are you smirking on purpose just so that I will kiss you?", he asked with an amused raised eyebrow.

"You're fucking right I am, Lo."

**AN:** Thanks for reading! What did you think? Leave a review for my first fanfic?- CvZ


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